Until You
by burgundywolf
Summary: Quinn Fabray, a book store owner, has a chance encounter with Broadway and movie star Rachel Berry.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Don't own the characters Glee, don't own Notting Hill, the movie the plot of this story is based after.

**Summary: **Quinn Fabray, a book store owner, has a chance encounter with Broadway and movie star Rachel Berry.

**A/N: **Plot is based off the movie Notting Hill, which stars Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts. You don't need to watch to movie to read this, although if you've watched it, you'll know where this story is heading. Hope you enjoy!

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><p>Quinn's eyes blearily opened at the burst of light coming through the gap in the curtains. Grunting, she rolled over on her back, grabbing a pillow and pressing it to her eyes to prevent the harsh light from waking her up completely. After a few minutes of lying completely still and trying the will herself back to sleep, she gave up and threw the pillow across the bed, tiredly groaning as she craned her head to look at the clock.<p>

The numbers 10:46 greeted her in bright red letters. Shit, she was late for work.

Mustering up the energy to swing her legs off the side of the bed, Quinn fumbled for her glasses, putting the black-rimmed spectacles on quickly so she could actually see properly.

She got dressed swiftly, in a maroon dress shirt and denim jeans and ran her fingers through her short, choppy hair in an attempt to get rid of her bed head. It failed, as usual, so she decided to just smooth it down before grabbing her messenger bag and exiting her crummy bedroom.

"Morning." Quinn grunted at the sight of her roommate, Finn, lazily sprawled on the couch in his boxers, cereal bowl precariously balanced on his stomach. He waved at her with a wide smile in response.

"Hey, Q!" He replied, voice muffled by the mouthful of cereal he was chewing. Quinn winced at the sight of mushed up food in his mouth but decided to ignore it in favour of throwing her lunch in her bag and putting her shoes on. Living for almost a year with the boneheaded man-child and having dated him previously had made her near immune to his less favorable traits. Such as constantly talking with his mouth open.

"I'll be back late, tonight. I have a date!" Finn announced giddily. Quinn winced, already feeling sorry for the girl. She really had no idea what she was getting herself into. The blonde tuned Finn's mindless ramblings out, double checking her bag and making sure she had everything she needed.

With a final glance at the clock, she left the apartment hurriedly, leaving Finn talking to himself. Running down the stairs, because the lift in their apartment building _never _worked, she continued at the same pace until she crossed the street (successfully avoiding any collisions with cars) and reached her workplace, _The Westchester Secondhand Book Store._

Quinn had started working there three years ago, back when she was still studying Psychology in UCLA, and the place was owned by a sweet elderly man named Duncan. Three years later, having graduated, she was _still_ working at the shop, which was now hers, after Duncan passed away last year.

It wasn't the best job - if someone had asked her teenaged self what she'd imagine herself doing when she was twenty six, working in a small book store with a practically unused Psychology degree would have never crossed her mind. But then again, her teenaged self would have imagined herself still being in Lima, working as a real estate agent and living the so-called idyllic white picket fence married life with Finn, so she felt a little better about her life, even if she ended up living with Finn anyways and was working as a book store owner. She's not a Lima Loser, after all, and not living a life with lies anymore, especially regarding her sexuality.

Quinn might not be completely happy, but she wasn't sad, either, and that was okay for her, because she had spent the majority of life unhappy, and anything that made her feel otherwise was a welcome change.

She hummed a pleasant tune as she unlocked the door to the book store, and flipped the sign from 'closed' to 'open'. The streets outside were relatively quiet, so she felt better about being late to work. Quinn took her designated seat behind the counter, picking up a Robert Frost collection to read while waiting for the streets of West Los Angeles to heat up and produce a few customers.

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><p>Quinn had moved on to an Ernest Hemingway anthology before the door opened, causing a small wind to rush through the store and the bell to ring loudly. Her head snapped up, hazel eyes greeted by a beautiful brunette clad in jeans and a dress shirt, and one of the biggest pair of sunglasses Quinn had ever seen on her face.<p>

The blonde squinted her eyes - there was something familiar about the woman, like Quinn had seen her somewhere before. She tapped her fingers on the counter, discretely glancing at her from the corner of her eye. She swore she had seen that face before, like on a billboard or in a movie...

"Oh my god," Quinn muttered under her breath, when she put the face to the name. It was Rachel Berry, Tony Award winning Broadway extraordinaire turned movie star ingenue. Rachel Berry was standing in front of her in her tiny book store. Quinn had just watched one of her movies last week - a movie about a high school Glee club, and now she was here in the flesh.

She was even more beautiful in person, Quinn noted, even with sunglasses twice the size of her face. Her long, silky chestnut hair covered her face like a veil as she flipped through a book, and her golden, tanned skin made it look like she was from California than New York. Her nose, although slightly large and Jewish, fit her face perfectly,

Quinn looked away quickly when she realized she was staring, and stood up from the counter, approaching her cautiously.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?" Quinn asked, drawing the actress' attention. She glanced at the Barbra Streisand coffee table book clutched in the brunette's hands. "That's not a very good book, actually, pretty much rubbish. If you're looking for something to do with Streisand, then this," She picked up a book near her. "is much better. I think the author's actually met her, which makes a big difference, obviously, and they have some really good anecdotes, about Broadway and stuff." Quinn trailed off, immediately cringing at her long ramble.

The shorter woman giggled quietly (possibly the most heavenly sound Quinn had ever heard), and shook her head. "I'm just browsing." She replied, eyes perusing another shelf.

"Right, right. I'll just be here, behind the counter," Quinn gestured behind her. "if you need anything. Anything at all. Especially if you're interested in psychology. I can definitely recommend some books on that subject, since I have a degree in it." She nervously laughed and sat down.

"Sure." The actress replied kindly, although her eyebrow was raised in amusement.

Quinn picked up her forgotten book, forcing her eyes on to it. Keep calm, Fabray, she reminded herself. Don't make a fool of yourself. Well, at least_ try_ not to, she amended. She wasn't usually this socially inept, but then again, she didn't usually talk to attractive, world-famous celebrities.

They stayed that way for a few silent minutes, Rachel browsing through the shelves and Quinn pretending to read her Hemingway book, until the actress walked up to the counter and handed her the coffee table book Quinn had insulted not so kindly earlier.

The blonde glanced at the book, running her hand through her unruly hair anxiously. "On second thought, I'm sure the book is a masterpiece. I mean, the photos are excellent, really, and I'm sure the anecdotes in the book are just as good as any other, really." Quinn stuttered. "It'll make for great conversation when people come over to your house, I'll bet, as Streisand always is." She rambled as she placed the book into a bag.

"Thanks." The brunette shot her a small smile, before taking the bag from her and walking out the door without a second look back.

Quinn stared at the door, dazed. That was interesting, to say the least. She doubted anything like that would ever happen again. Shaking her head, she immersed herself in paperwork, shrugging off whatever had happened earlier.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Don't own the characters from Glee, don't own Notting Hill, the movie the plot of this story is based after.

**Summary: **Quinn Fabray, a book store owner, has a chance encounter with Broadway and movie star Rachel Berry.

**A/N: **Plot is based off the movie Notting Hill, which stars Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts. You don't need to watch to movie to read this, although if you've watched it, you'll know where this story is heading. Hope you enjoy!

**A/N #2: **Wow, two chapters in two days. I apologize if this is a bit short (or a bit rushed); I tend to write in short and quick bursts, so I'm sorry if some of you prefer longer but more sporadic updates. I'm aiming for one update a week for this, so it doesn't get too drawn out. Un-betaed, so feel free to point out any grammar mistakes and such, or give constructive criticism.

Thank you for the alerts, favourites and reviews!

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><p>Half an hour later, Quinn was desperately craving her daily cup of coffee, which she usually drank in the morning. Waking up late had really thrown her off course. She wasn't usually a stickler for routine, but this had been her life for almost two years now, and Quinn was used to it enough that she was a little annoyed if she didn't follow it.<p>

The blonde jogged at a light pace to the nearby Starbucks around the corner and perused the menu. She had always been an indecisive person, which made dining out a hundred times harder than it needed to be. Perusing the menu one last time, she decided to order a latte, quickly telling the barista her choice before she could change her mind again.

Five minutes later, Quinn exited the cafe, both hands cupping the cardboard cup tightly to keep them warm. It was a windier day than usual. She took a long sip of the hot drink and made a face right afterwards. Maybe she should have gone with the cappuccino instead. Or maybe the hazelnut latte. The options weighed in Quinn's mind as she walked around the corner, and consequently, she didn't see the person coming from the other side.

"Shit!" Quinn exclaimed as the latte spilt over herself and the person who she had unknowingly bumped into. "I'm so sorry!" She rummaged around in her jean pockets frantically, ignoring the stranger's disgruntled cusses, and pulled out the abundance of tissues she had stolen from Starbucks. The blonde dabbed it on the stranger's stained chest, trying to soak up all the latte before it spread through their top.

"Hey!" The stranger exclaimed when Quinn's hands went too close to her breasts. Quinn's head snapped up at the familiar voice. Just her luck. The face of Rachel Berry met her yet again, although this time, it displayed an annoyed expression instead of a humored one. Despite the star wearing sunglasses, Quinn could feel the glare emanating from her brown eyes (she's pretty sure they're brown, if she remembers correctly).

"Um, look, my apartment's just across the street, if you'd like to come up. I have some clean clothes that could fit you, and you could get cleaned up." Quinn gestured wildly to the apartment building across from them. "It's right there. If you wanted to, that is. I could also treat you to some drinks or snacks. There are some leftover grilled cheese sandwiches that my roommate made from yesterday, if you'd prefer that. Actually, I'm not sure if they're edible or not. Nonetheless, I also have some-"

A giggle interrupts her from her rant. "Okay, I'll go." Rachel replies, adjusting the sunglasses on her face. "Lead the way." Quinn stands there for a moment, stunned, before regaining her senses.

"Here, let me take your bags." She remembered her manners that her mother had so dutifully instilled in her, and picked up the fancy shopping bags. Ignoring the movie star's surprised gaze, Quinn walked off towards her apartment, motioning for the brunette to follow her.

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><p>Quinn grimaced at the hideous state the apartment was in. Clearly, Finn hadn't bothered to clean up before he left. She quickly dropped the bags she was holding, and dashed to the living room-slash-kitchen, clearing all the dirty bowls that had accumulated over the past week, and shoving all the pizza boxes into the bin. Cringing at Finn's boxers hanging on a chair, she stuffed it into the fridge in a hurry. She groaned internally. This wasn't the greatest impression to make on a Tony and Grammy Award winning star.<p>

"My room's that way." Quinn pointed to it, gathering herself mentally. "There's a bathroom to clean the coffee off, the closet's on your left, and you can take whatever you want." Rachel smiled at her, nodding in appreciation before disappearing into the hallway.

The blonde slumped into a chair once she heard the bedroom door slam shut. This was certainly a surreal day. She hadn't had anything interesting happen to her in ages. Ever since she had graduated from college, her life had hit a plateau. While she didn't mind how her life was now, she couldn't suppress the jealousy within her whenever her friends talked about how amazing their job was, or how fun their holiday was. Sure, meeting a celebrity wasn't a big deal, and obviously not much in the long run, but it was _something_. She couldn't wait to tell Santana that Rachel Berry had been in her apartment, and was wearing her clothes. As much Santana claimed she hated the movie star, Quinn knew she secretly found her hot.

The thought crossed Quinn's mind that she could call TMZ or some trashy celebrity news business that Rachel Berry was currently in her house, and make some quick money, but she shook her head. She wasn't into that stuff anyways, and Rachel (or Ms. Berry, Quinn had no idea what to call her) had been perfectly nice to her, and _wasn't _a bitch, unlike the latest claims made by US Magazine or whatever magazines were on the shelves nowadays.

She hummed an indiscernible tune that had been stuck in her head for the past week, tapping her fingers on the table along to the beat.

"I see you've seen my new movie."

Quinn's head jerks up in surprise. "Damn, you have got to stop shocking me." Her eyes ran over the actress, who was wearing one of Quinn's plaid shirts and a pair of sinfully short shorts that she wasn't even aware she owned, which currently displayed the longest pair of legs she'd ever seen. She paused when she realized the brunette had made a comment. "Um, pardon?"

Rachel blushed slightly under the blonde's gaze. "I said that you've seen my new movie."

"Um, yeah, I have. Last week, actually. You were amazing. I've never quite heard someone sing like you do." Quinn said honestly. She smiled as Rachel looked away, trying to hide her proud smile. On any other person, it would have looked conceited and arrogant, Quinn thought. "I'm Quinn, by the way. Quinn Fabray." She introduced herself. "Oh, and can I get you anything to drink? Or eat, as a matter of fact.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Quinn." Rachel said, almost a bit too formally. "I'm Rachel. And there's no need to procure anything to eat, I should be leaving rather soon."

"I'm sure I have something here you'd like." Quinn said, moving to open the fridge. She peered inside, sighing at the emptiness of it. "We don't have much, but we do have tea, orange juice and some coke. No?" She moved to open some cabinets. "Coffee? Maybe not." Quinn muttered, remembering their collision.

"Really, Quinn, it's okay." The shorter woman moved towards the door.

"You sure?" Quinn asked, still opening various cabinets and drawers. "We have some cereal, if you want. No milk, unfortunately, but we do have chocolate milk. Or yoghurt, if you're into that." The blonde wasn't sure why she was rambling a lot today, but put it down to being in front of a celebrity. She was usually firm and to the point, and had a tendency to seem cold and aloof, although this didn't appear to be showing today.

"It's fine, I really don't want to bother you. I really should go. Thank you, for all your help." Rachel gave a genuine smile.

"You're welcome, really. And if you ever are in need of a book, then you know where to go. Although after reading the book you just bought I highly doubt you would want to come back." Quinn replied. "And it was nice to meet you. Phantasmagorical-" She cringed immediately afterwards. "But nice."

She opened the door, shutting it the second the actress walked out. "What the fuck was that, Fabray? Phantasmagorical? Jebus." She muttered. Although she had stopped practicing Christianity regularly long ago, old habits died hard, and she still refused to take His name in vain.

Quinn flinched, startled, when someone knocked on the door. She opened it and saw Rachel standing on the doorstep.

"Hi. I forgot my bags." The brunette said, gesturing inside.

"Oh, right. Hang on." Quinn replied, walking inside and grabbing the forgotten shopping bags. "Here you go." She handed the bags over to the actress. Their hands brushed, for a millisecond, but it sent a shiver up Quinn's spine.

"Thanks again. Well, I should go now." Rachel murmured, awkwardly.

Quinn reached over her to open the door for a second time, when their gaze met each other's. It was possibly one of the most intimate moments of her life, with the electricity passing between their eyes, and the palpable tension between them. Rachel had removed her glasses sometime between leaving and coming back, and God, her eyes were beautiful. They stood there together for what seems like hours, hazel orbs boring into its chocolate brown counterparts, and Quinn barely had time to register the sound of heavy shopping bags dropping to the floor before Rachel leant upwards and forwards, pressing her lips onto Quinn's.


End file.
